Chapter 3: A Deal's A Deal
She was standing next to the black limo when Roger's sedan pulled up next to it. Charisse was solemn looking, her white, double-breasted skirt suit marring the dark of her vehicle. The red rosebud was present again, pinned to her lapel.
In her hands were a stack of papers, all printed on paper with the Triax Plastics Inc. corporate logo on the top right hand corner. Roger got out of his car and noticed that her hands were shaking slightly.
The morning sun had peeked over the horizon early this morning, but Roger had already been out of bed, on time, without any of Dorothy's brand of music. It was now overcast and it seemed ready to pour down rain on the rendezvous.
"Good morning, Roger." Her hands were still shaking as she checked her watch. The shaking increased as she noticed that it was close to eight o'clock.
"Good morning, Charisse." Roger took the papers out of her hands so she could lower them and hide the shaking she couldn't control. "Are these the documents?"
"Yes. I had them signed and sealed last night. Everything they want is there. I hope." Charisse swallowed hard as Roger shuffled through the papers.
"It looks like it." He skimmed the papers, reading enough to know they were orders to cease payments and work, as well as orders to destroy all materials used and being tested on. She had been thorough with her arrangements. Charisse really wanted her father back.
The white van pulled into the cemetery, slowly passing the open iron gate with the careful pace of an inexperienced driver. The windows of the van had been painted over, and Charisse and Roger knew that Darnell had to be in the back of that van.
It stopped slowly, about thirty yards from the other cars, and one person got out. He was dressed in black and seemed to be the driver. Another got out and he too was all in black. The driver kept an eye on Roger and Charisse as his comrade went to the back of the van. He turned the tarnished handle and the doors swung open with silent speed and two more came out, bearing Darnell Triax.
Darnell was ragged looking, a gray, three-day growth of hair decorating his chin. His gray hair still had streaks of red that definitely placed Charisse as his daughter. Darnell was in a wrinkled and dirty white shirt with black slacks. His hands were tied behind his back and a blindfold covered his eyes.
The two that had been in the back with him were dressed like their companions and they all wore masks that covered their faces from forehead to the tip of their noses. Roger stepped forward, placing himself between the kidnappers and Charisse.
"Do you have what we want?" The supposed leader asked, signaling the two holding Darnell to bring him forward.
Roger nodded and walked forward, bearing the packet of papers. All four darkly dressed men watched his every movement as he stopped and handed the papers over. The leader skimmed them in the same way Roger did, then nodded.
The two holding Darnell let go and instructed him to stand still. The leader looked at Roger, "I want you and Miss Triax to stand still until you can no longer see this van. Then you may reclaim Mr. Triax. It has been a pleasure doing business with you."
The four backed to the van and got in. Roger and Charisse waited until the van was out of sight before they moved forward. Roger removed the blindfold, and saw a pair of eyes that could have been Charisse's.
Charisse pushed past Roger with gentle urgency and hugged her father. Roger moved around to untie the elderly man's hands and noticed that though Charisse seemed tall, she was dwarfed in her father's arms. Though he was older, Darnell Triax was still an impressive specimen. He was at least six feet tall and well built from long days in a gym with personal trainers.
Roger stood back and watched as Darnell buried his face in his daughter's hair, then looked up at him, still holding her. He held out a hand and Roger took it.
"Mr. Smith, I can't thank you enough. I hope that my daughter paid you very well for your services."
Charisse held her father tightly, and looked up, the tears staining her cheeks were ones of joy, but Roger still felt the urge to wipe them away. He suddenly had the notion that she should never cry.
"Thank you, Roger. For all you've done." She said and she led her father to the back of the limousine. Charisse helped him in, never letting go of his hand. She smiled one last time at Roger before getting in after Darnell. The door to the limo shut and it rolled away into the distance.
Roger opened the door to The Griffin and got in, driving home at his usual pace. The traffic was light for midmorning, and he was able to push his thoughts aside for the moment, lost in the speed of his car. Before he knew it, he was pulling up in front of his home and was in the front door, handing his coat to Norman.
"You received a letter sir." Norman said, "It's on your desk."
"Thank you Norman." Roger said, and he went into his study, closing the door behind him.
On the desk was a cream colored envelope with his name and address on it. He gazed at the return address on the back, and wasn't surprised to find another envelope inside the first. He opened the second envelope and pulled out a thick, cream-colored card with gold engraved letters on it.
He read it carefully and smiled at the notion that he was being invited to the grand gala being held in honor of Darnell Triax's sixtieth birthday the next evening. Roger chuckled, wondering how he was going to decline without seeming rude when he noticed something written on the bottom.
The single sentence was hand written, in a flowing, careful script. He smiled again, but this time it was because the note was from Charisse. He read the three simple words again.
"Please come. Charisse."
Roger now wondered how he could go and stay in control around her. There was definitely something about her that attracted him. He thought back, leaning his head on one hand, thinking about her.
Charisse seemed so calm on the outside, but on the inside was something wild and fiery, just waiting below the surface for a chance to escape. She intrigued him, and Roger was so wrapped in his thoughts that he didn't see Dorothy come in until she was standing at the edge of his desk.
"Roger, what are you thinking about?" She asked.
Roger looked up, a bit startled by her appearance, "I thought I told you to knock."
"I did knock, but you were daydreaming and didn't hear me." Dorothy pointed out.
"You should have knocked until I heard you. But I am thinking about Charisse Triax."
Dorothy cocked her head to one side, "Charisse Triax. She was your client today."
Roger knew Dorothy wasn't accusing him of anything, but he felt the sudden urge to justify his actions. He shook off the feeling and answered with as much dignity as he could, "Yes, she was. Now she's inviting me to her father's birthday gala."
"Are you going to attend?"
Roger would have said no usually, but this time, "Yes, I am planning to."
Dorothy nodded and walked away without any further speculation.
"Norman!" Roger called out. He walked to his study door and found the butler waiting.
"Yes, Master Roger?"
Roger smiled at the card in his hand, "Get out my tuxedo. I'm going to a party."
She was standing next to the black limo when Roger's sedan pulled up next to it. Charisse was solemn looking, her white, double-breasted skirt suit marring the dark of her vehicle. The red rosebud was present again, pinned to her lapel.
In her hands were a stack of papers, all printed on paper with the Triax Plastics Inc. corporate logo on the top right hand corner. Roger got out of his car and noticed that her hands were shaking slightly.
The morning sun had peeked over the horizon early this morning, but Roger had already been out of bed, on time, without any of Dorothy's brand of music. It was now overcast and it seemed ready to pour down rain on the rendezvous.
"Good morning, Roger." Her hands were still shaking as she checked her watch. The shaking increased as she noticed that it was close to eight o'clock.
"Good morning, Charisse." Roger took the papers out of her hands so she could lower them and hide the shaking she couldn't control. "Are these the documents?"
"Yes. I had them signed and sealed last night. Everything they want is there. I hope." Charisse swallowed hard as Roger shuffled through the papers.
"It looks like it." He skimmed the papers, reading enough to know they were orders to cease payments and work, as well as orders to destroy all materials used and being tested on. She had been thorough with her arrangements. Charisse really wanted her father back.
The white van pulled into the cemetery, slowly passing the open iron gate with the careful pace of an inexperienced driver. The windows of the van had been painted over, and Charisse and Roger knew that Darnell had to be in the back of that van.
It stopped slowly, about thirty yards from the other cars, and one person got out. He was dressed in black and seemed to be the driver. Another got out and he too was all in black. The driver kept an eye on Roger and Charisse as his comrade went to the back of the van. He turned the tarnished handle and the doors swung open with silent speed and two more came out, bearing Darnell Triax.
Darnell was ragged looking, a gray, three-day growth of hair decorating his chin. His gray hair still had streaks of red that definitely placed Charisse as his daughter. Darnell was in a wrinkled and dirty white shirt with black slacks. His hands were tied behind his back and a blindfold covered his eyes.
The two that had been in the back with him were dressed like their companions and they all wore masks that covered their faces from forehead to the tip of their noses. Roger stepped forward, placing himself between the kidnappers and Charisse.
"Do you have what we want?" The supposed leader asked, signaling the two holding Darnell to bring him forward.
Roger nodded and walked forward, bearing the packet of papers. All four darkly dressed men watched his every movement as he stopped and handed the papers over. The leader skimmed them in the same way Roger did, then nodded.
The two holding Darnell let go and instructed him to stand still. The leader looked at Roger, "I want you and Miss Triax to stand still until you can no longer see this van. Then you may reclaim Mr. Triax. It has been a pleasure doing business with you."
The four backed to the van and got in. Roger and Charisse waited until the van was out of sight before they moved forward. Roger removed the blindfold, and saw a pair of eyes that could have been Charisse's.
Charisse pushed past Roger with gentle urgency and hugged her father. Roger moved around to untie the elderly man's hands and noticed that though Charisse seemed tall, she was dwarfed in her father's arms. Though he was older, Darnell Triax was still an impressive specimen. He was at least six feet tall and well built from long days in a gym with personal trainers.
Roger stood back and watched as Darnell buried his face in his daughter's hair, then looked up at him, still holding her. He held out a hand and Roger took it.
"Mr. Smith, I can't thank you enough. I hope that my daughter paid you very well for your services."
Charisse held her father tightly, and looked up, the tears staining her cheeks were ones of joy, but Roger still felt the urge to wipe them away. He suddenly had the notion that she should never cry.
"Thank you, Roger. For all you've done." She said and she led her father to the back of the limousine. Charisse helped him in, never letting go of his hand. She smiled one last time at Roger before getting in after Darnell. The door to the limo shut and it rolled away into the distance.
Roger opened the door to The Griffin and got in, driving home at his usual pace. The traffic was light for midmorning, and he was able to push his thoughts aside for the moment, lost in the speed of his car. Before he knew it, he was pulling up in front of his home and was in the front door, handing his coat to Norman.
"You received a letter sir." Norman said, "It's on your desk."
"Thank you Norman." Roger said, and he went into his study, closing the door behind him.
On the desk was a cream colored envelope with his name and address on it. He gazed at the return address on the back, and wasn't surprised to find another envelope inside the first. He opened the second envelope and pulled out a thick, cream-colored card with gold engraved letters on it.
He read it carefully and smiled at the notion that he was being invited to the grand gala being held in honor of Darnell Triax's sixtieth birthday the next evening. Roger chuckled, wondering how he was going to decline without seeming rude when he noticed something written on the bottom.
The single sentence was hand written, in a flowing, careful script. He smiled again, but this time it was because the note was from Charisse. He read the three simple words again.
"Please come. Charisse."
Roger now wondered how he could go and stay in control around her. There was definitely something about her that attracted him. He thought back, leaning his head on one hand, thinking about her.
Charisse seemed so calm on the outside, but on the inside was something wild and fiery, just waiting below the surface for a chance to escape. She intrigued him, and Roger was so wrapped in his thoughts that he didn't see Dorothy come in until she was standing at the edge of his desk.
"Roger, what are you thinking about?" She asked.
Roger looked up, a bit startled by her appearance, "I thought I told you to knock."
"I did knock, but you were daydreaming and didn't hear me." Dorothy pointed out.
"You should have knocked until I heard you. But I am thinking about Charisse Triax."
Dorothy cocked her head to one side, "Charisse Triax. She was your client today."
Roger knew Dorothy wasn't accusing him of anything, but he felt the sudden urge to justify his actions. He shook off the feeling and answered with as much dignity as he could, "Yes, she was. Now she's inviting me to her father's birthday gala."
"Are you going to attend?"
Roger would have said no usually, but this time, "Yes, I am planning to."
Dorothy nodded and walked away without any further speculation.
"Norman!" Roger called out. He walked to his study door and found the butler waiting.
"Yes, Master Roger?"
Roger smiled at the card in his hand, "Get out my tuxedo. I'm going to a party."
